


Aconite

by EsteriaSilversmith



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-26 00:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18272330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EsteriaSilversmith/pseuds/EsteriaSilversmith
Summary: A new hunter in town is threatening the pack.  Stiles takes matters into his own hands.





	Aconite

Stiles fixed his hair and straightened his shirt. It was best to look nice for this. He knocked on the door. Firm, strong, but not hostile. He made an effort to smile. The door swung open and the man on the other side smiled back at him. It was a nice smile-soft and self assured. Stiles held out the bottle of Cheap Red Wine. (No, seriously, that was the name. He may have bought it specifically because he found that hilarious, but he’d never admit it.)

“Mind if I come in?” he requested. The man nodded, slowly, but without hesitation, and stepped out of the door way. Stiles stepped through.

“ So,” asked the man, “have you been sent to intimidate me?” He poured the wine. Stiles laughed. 

“If we were gonna do that, we’d have sent someone scarier. Probably Derek. He has the best murder face. It’s the eyebrows. Though it’s pretty stupid to have let me in if that’s how you thought this was going to go. Most people don’t invite their enemies into their homes just because they bring crappy wine.” It’s Stiles’ companion’s turn to laugh now. He was a hunter, and a fairly experienced one at that. He’d faced worse threats than a teenage boy who doesn’t even have any supernatural powers. He’d been successfully holding off both the Hale-Mccall pack and the Argents for weeks now. He finished pouring the wine and took a glass, handing the other to Stiles. They were in flutes, which honestly seemed unnecessary. Stiles had never met a hunter as prissy as this one. That didn't stop him from being dangerous. 

“I see. Then what are you here for?”

“I’m here to convince you. We haven’t been doing anything wrong. The pack all have control during the full moon, and Derek hasn’t turned anyone without their consent. Scott hasn’t turned anyone at all. The only people we have attacked have attacked us first. According to the Code we should be safe. You hunt those who hunt you, right? We haven’t hunted you.” He played with his glass, but didn’t drink. The hunter had no such compunctions, and he sipped from his flute with an air of smug superiority.

“You think I care about the Code? How naive can you be? The Code is an outdated tradition, put in place to contain psychopaths like the Argents who can’t hold themselves back enough to keep the civilians from noticing. I have no need for such restraints. I have no need for the Code.”

“Do you have need for your life? Because you’ve decided to go up against some pretty powerful groups.”

“Oh Stiles. Do you really think I’m afraid of your little wolf pack? That’s adorable. Even if you could kill me, you never would. After all,” he smiles, “Scott Mccall is moral, isn’t he? He’s one of the ‘good guys’. And poor Derek is just caught up in his orbit, lulled into a false sense of security by Scott’s talk of a better way. He might have been able to do it once, but his claws have been dulled.” He finished the rest of his wine. Stiles sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“You’re right.” The hunter looks surprised at this concession. “Scott could never kill you, even if you have no such compunctions. He’s too good. He’s managed to keep his morals uncorrupted even through all of the shit that has happened around here since he was bitten. It’s kind of amazing actually. That takes real strength.” He looked up “Scott always was the stronger of the two of us.”

“What are you-”

He stopped. Clutched the table. He seemed to be having trouble standing. Stiles smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“Yeah, that’d be the nausea.” The hunter fell to the floor, panting and sweating. Stiles just kept smiling. 

“You know,” he said conversationally, “it’s funny. Everyone's so focused on wolfsbane being a magical plant, a way to combat werewolves, that they forget it’s a regular poison too. It can kill you just as easily as any werewolf. And in a town like this? It’s not hard to get your hands on some without anyone asking questions.” He walked past the convulsing hunter and grabbed the bottle of wine off the counter. 

“Still, you weren’t wrong. Scott would not approve. Don’t worry though, I won’t tell him if you won’t.” He winked at the dying man and left the house, taking the wine bottle and his flute with him. No point leaving fingerprints.


End file.
